


i found a home in the graveyard

by LikeInkandFire



Series: Jason Todd is Demonic Cultivator [1]
Category: Batman - All Media Types, 陈情令 | The Untamed (TV), 魔道祖师 - 墨香铜臭 | Módào Zǔshī - Mòxiāng Tóngxiù
Genre: Aftermath of Torture, Character Death: Its Jason, Demonic Cultivator Jason Todd, Found Family, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-27
Updated: 2021-01-27
Packaged: 2021-03-13 08:48:45
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,365
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29025999
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LikeInkandFire/pseuds/LikeInkandFire
Summary: Wèi Wúxiàn finds a no longer dead boy in Gotham.(and promptly adopts him)
Relationships: Lán Zhàn | Lán Wàngjī/Wèi Yīng | Wèi Wúxiàn
Series: Jason Todd is Demonic Cultivator [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2129376
Comments: 7
Kudos: 46





	i found a home in the graveyard

**Author's Note:**

> So, I got dragged into the Untamed universe by Tumblr fanart and edits in the midst of a Jason Todd obsession. This is the result. Hope you guys enjoy it!

Wei Ying, courtesy name Wei Wuxian, Grandmaster of Demonic Cultivation, the Yiling Patriarch, goes to Gotham to solve a mystery that is unsurprisingly connected to demonic cultivation.

After all, the city is so entwined with resentful energy that it would make the Burial Mounds proud, in fact, it does remind him of the Burial Mounds in a number of bone-chilling ways, but he wasn`t planning to visit anytime soon. _It isn't actually his job to clean up resentful energy all over the world. It’s not his fault people keep misunderstanding what cultivating with resentful energy actually means._

Still, the sudden burst of resentful energy had been powerful and unexpected, the pull of it compelling in a way that made the hairs on the back of his neck stand up. It said: new demonic cultivator in bright neon lights. Powerful but also muted, it lacked a certain aggression which made things very intriguing, since even he knows that Gotham is made of violence. He can’t see why someone from there would turn to resentful energy cultivation and not use it as a weapon. Very curious indeed, Alice.

So, Wei Wuxian, a great enthusiast of intriguing and dangerous things was completely incapable of staying away. Lan Zhan hadn't been exactly happy about it but kept his unhappiness to a mildly dissatisfied “Mn". Which meant he disapproved him going alone but also understood that probably was the better option and would not interfere as long as he was careful. Wei Ying had promised that he would try.

Husband warned and properly appeased he had gone solve a mystery and maybe meet a resentful energy cultivator that was not batshit crazy or a murderous psychopath. _After all, Wen Qing kept telling him he should be more optimistic, and he had to start somewhere right?_

In Gotham, he follows the trail of resentful energy, all over the city, trying to find it’s source, picking bits and pieces on the way. _Fear. Confusion. Terror. Despair._ It’s all mumbled together and turned inwards, painting a very bleak picture, and leaving the taste of dirt in his mouth. He’s not surprised to see that the trail leads to the city slums. There’s a particular shade of anger and pain and resentment that belongs only to those whose death and pain comes from being ignored, used and rejected by society. What does surprise him is its source.

The boy because it’s a boy, _it’s a fucking child,_ can’t be more than fifteen. _He is younger than I was._ It’s surrounded with resentful energy, a dark cloud spinning around him, protective and vicious, like a collied snake, ready to strike at moment’s notice. The people around him can certainly feel it, even if they can’t see, because they keep their distance, eying him with distrust and fear. The boy, though, doesn’t appear to be aware of _anything,_ ifhis poorly kept clothes, sunken cheeks, and vacant eyes are any indicator. A _n untrained eye may think he’s a puppet._

Lucky, for all the involved parties, Wei Wuxian is anything but an untrained cultivator, he’s clearly _not_ a puppet, _nor_ a fierce corpse. The boy is obviously alive but it’s also clear that wasn’t always the case. _He’s like Wen Ning only more._ It’s an enigma, one that raises far too many questions and worrisome possibilities.

Not wanting to wait until someone does something that tips the boy off and makes the energy lash out, Wei Wuxian starts to play Chenqing, a soft and compelling song, projecting nothing but calmness and kindness to lead the child away from the streets into a secluded spot like the pied piper. He goes without protest, docile, but the grandmaster of demonic cultivation is not sure if it’s because the energy recognises him and so leads the boy away or if the child is coherent enough to understand the intent behind the music.

Safe and hidden away in abandoned building Wei Wuxian can turn his mind to the prToblem at hand. Up close the child is even smaller, frail, and Wei Wuxian quickly reassesses his estimative of fifteen. _Nope, not going there right now._ Shaking his head, he notices that there’s some dried blood in his hands.

Well, first things first, he needs to assess the child’s state, both physical and mental, and to do that he needs to touch him. So, he plays once again, asking permission to approach, since trying to force the resentful energy away from the boy well do more harm than good.

His patience pays out, the resentful energy recognises him, and lets him pass. He touches the boy's wrist, to check his qi, to check his energy flow, check his pulse and is nearly throwback by the force of the despair and fear that washes over him. It’s the frightened, hopeless and helpless, terror of a child, an endless chant of _pain, pain, pain,_ that cuts him to his core.

_“Batman!” – Screams the boy, blood coming out of his mouth, tied to a chair, in a warehouse, as crowbar hits him again, then comes the sound of his ribs cracking, while a crackling laugh echoes in the background. – “Help me!”_

_“No one is coming little bird.” – Says the dark laughing man, on the child’s year, cupping his cheek, making him shiver and – “No one is coming at all, is just you and me. But I do like hearing you sing. Do it again!”_

_The crowbar hits him again, this time in the leg smashing its tibia and he lets out another scream of pain, tears spilling out of his eyes, as the clown laughs, laughs and **laughs.**_

**_“_ ** _Forehead or Backhead? C’mon little robin, A or B? We don’t have much more **timeeee!!**_

_“Bruce!”- He screams again, only now, his breath is laboured, the smell of graveyard dirt of his nose, he’s trapped somewhere in a box. He’s locked in a box and he can’t breathe. In a panic he smacks the top of the box he hits over and over and over again until his nails are ripped off until his fingers are broken. Finally, the lid breaks, but he’s not free yet._

_More dirt falls on his face as he’s greeted by more darkness. Only then he realizes he’s in a coffin, that clown buried him alive. He’s going to die already ready for burial, in this dark cramped space and he’s so so scared!_

_“Dad! Please! I’m in here!”_

_No help comes but he doesn’t stop fighting. He’s a survivor if nothing else. So, he fights and fights, digging out of this grave from the inside, desperate to find his father that surly is looking for him because he loves him, right?_

_When his first breath of fresh air comes, he can’t stop himself from crying from relief. He’s free, so now he needs to find his family, his dad, Alfred and even that dickhead. Objective clear in his mind, he starts walking away from that pit of darkness._

_It’s then that Wei Wuxian’s eyes focus on a detail that the boy himself hadn’t noticed: It’s his own name written in that tombstone: Jason Peter Todd._

_The child in question it's still walking forward but the shock and the blood loss are making him and so he doesn’t see it when a car comes at him at full speed. The blinding headlights are the last him he truly sees for a long while._

When he comes back to himself, he’s shaking, and the boy is curled unto himself on the ground trembling and crying with half aborted sounds. With a deep breath, Wei Ying center’s himself regains his strength, kneels in the ground and picks the boy up. Worryingly he notices that he weights very little but Wei Ying is determined to fatten him up.

_Well, that settles it then._ It’s not like he hasn’t shown up with a radish before, considering the purpose of this trip Lan Zhan doesn’t even have the right to be surprised, and if history has anything to say about it, he’ll be even more protective of the boy than Wei Wuxuan.

“Come on kid, you’re coming home with me. We’ll keep you safe, I promise.”

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading it!  
> If you like it, come talk to me about on Tumblr: http://smells-like-ink-and-fire.tumblr.com/


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